


Sassy Gay Ancestor

by Jabberwocky (Sisterwives)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, Sassy Gay Summoner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-03
Updated: 2011-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-26 20:28:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/287512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sisterwives/pseuds/Jabberwocky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story about how Tavros’s fate could have been avoided if he had a Sassy Gay Ancestor. Pure crack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Tavros knelt before a chest tucked away in a remote corner of the ectobiology lab. If he remembered correctly, this was the chest where he, like so many of the other trolls, had stashed away his most prized weapon upon arriving at the Veil. It was a weird compulsive habit, hiding various personal items in the numerous chests that littered the lab. Still, it was fun. It was like a game, checking chests to see what the others had squirreled away and hoping to find an empty one to stick a fairy poster or two in.

But this wasn’t a game anymore. Not after what Vriska had done. With trembling fingers, Tavros unlocked the chest and withdrew his slender, black and white lance.

He was terrified, more terrified than he had ever been in his entire life. He wasn’t going to lie and pretend that he wasn’t, because he knew deep down that no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that he was confident and strong, Vriska was right – he was weak, a coward. But no matter how scared he was, he couldn’t back down. He had to face Vriska, even if he knew he wasn’t as strong or as clever as she was. He’d told her that he was coming after her, and that’s what he intended to do. He just had to be brave. Brave like Rufio.

Tavros took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, summoning up his (mostly fake, if he was being perfectly honest with himself) confidence. He had steeled himself, prepared to leave his makeshift respiteblock, when a voice boomed out of nowhere.

“What are you doing? What, what, WHAT are you doing?”

Tavros almost dropped his lance and looked around the room wildly to try and locate the source of the voice. There was no one around, and he began to suspect that the voice had come from within his head. “R-Rufio?” he whispered in reverence, his heart fluttering in his chest. He’d talked to Rufio before, of course, but it never felt as real as this. Usually he had to imagine Rufio’s answers, but this voice was too tangible. It was loud, it was confident, and most of all, it was _sassy_. “Wow, uh, usually you don’t talk to me unless, uh, I talk to you first! What, uhh, are you doing here?”

“Well, I’m _trying_ to keep you from making the worst mistake of your life,” Rufio started, and Tavros got the distinct impression that his imaginary friend was placing his hand on his hip and rolling his eyes. “And speaking of which, I repeat: what? First of all, step away from the stairs, you’re only going to hurt yourself.”

Tavros, who had been teetering on the periphery of the top step, sheepishly obeyed and put some distance between himself and his fated kismesis, the stairs.

“And second of all, _what_? Are you seriously considering fighting Vriska?” The disbelief in his ancestor’s disembodied voice was palpable.

Tavros swallowed nervously. He was doing his best to avoid thinking about what he was planning on doing. “Uhh, yes? Yes, I am.”

“And why are you doing such a thing? This is Vriska we’re talking about here! Vriska! You know, the one who _left you paralyzed_? Is this not sending warning flags up everywhere, screaming ‘Danger, Tavros Nitram, danger!’?”

“I know, but, I, I think this is something I have to do,” Tavros stuttered.

“Well, you know what I think?” Rufio asked, and, not waiting for an answer, plowed on relentlessly. “I think you’re six sweeps old and you’re an idiot. Because let’s be real here – there’s no way you can win against Vriska. She has all the levels. All of them. You, on the other hand, spent most of your session sleeping instead of leveling up after she tormented you, sexually assaulted you, and tried to make you kill her through mind control. She’s not just a huge bitch, she’s a crazy bitch, and you’re deluding yourself if you think you can beat her.”

“But, Rufio…” Tavros’s voice was small and hurt. “I thought you were supposed to, uh, make me feel confident and brave and, uhm, boost my self-esteem and tell me that I can do anything, if I just believe.”

“Sweetheart, if believing meant that you could do anything, you would have learned to fly like Pupa Pan a long time ago,” Rufio drawled. “Let’s be reasonable here, okay? You’re too unevenly matched. End of story.”

“But… but…” Tavros seemed to be struggling with himself, battling against conflicting feelings. “Someone has to make her pay!” He finally blurted out in a strangled voice. “Look at what she did!”

“Whoa, slow down, crazy, slow down! What good is that going to do? Even if you do kill her, it’s not going to change anything, because Jack is still going to be just as undefeatable as ever. And besides, she was totally goading you on! I mean, just look at your life! Look at your choices! When has doing anything Vriska wants you to do turned out well for you?”

“But, I don’t have a choice,” he whispered, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

“No, you do have choices,” Rufio answered, and his voice was both matter-of-fact and gentle enough to be reassuring. “You have options. And your best option is to just walk away and move on. There’s no use fighting what can’t be changed.”

Tavros offered a small, watery smile. “I guess maybe you’re, uh, right…”

“Of _course_ I’m right!” His ancestor exclaimed with a verbal wave of one perfectly manicured hand. “Now put the lance down and go find someone to have a feelings jam with in the horn pile,” he instructed.

Tavros broke out into a full grin at that, the knot that was coiling in his stomach releasing. Relief washed over him and replaced the nerves that had been welling up inside him at the thought of confronting Vriska. “Uh, okay, Rufio!” he said happily, content with this suggestion.

“Now come on, let’s get out of here, you stupid bitch,” the voice said affectionately.

And with the comforting presence of the Summoner in his head, Tavros headed for the transportalizer in the opposite direction of Vriska’s lair.

“By the way, did I mention that this is the best your hair has ever looked?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros Nitram needs some help from his Sassy Gay Ancestor when it comes to relationship advice. Rufio has no problem with fulfilling this role. Some hypothetical pairings are mentioned.

“Okay, spider baby!” Tavros exclaimed, dramatically pointing a finger at his target. “Attack!” He watched gleefully as his newest fiduspawn quickly ingested its fidusucker before launching into battle with his recently evolved Macarhino. The combat was everything that a fiduspawn battle should be – exciting, suspenseful, and dangerous, and it was over in a matter of seconds thanks to a perfectly executed spawntech. Tavros clapped his hands and declared everyone a winner before maneuvering his four wheel device to the opposite side of his respiteblock. He had just drawn a card and was shuffling his hand around to determine the best course of action when a familiar presence made itself known.

“What are you doing? What, what, WHAT are you doing?” the flamboyant voice of his ancestor demanded to know.

Tavros, who had choked on his own saliva at the unexpected announcement, coughed weakly, pounding on his chest. “Rufio? Wow, uh, hi,” he stammered, a little unnerved that his imaginary friend had surfaced for the second time without any conscious effort on Tavros’s part. “I, uhh, wasn’t expecting you. And, well, I’m—”

“No, don’t tell me, I already know,” Rufio interrupted, and Tavros fell silent, as if he sensed that Rufio was putting up a hand in the universal sign for ‘please shut up now.’ “It’s a Friday night, and you’re sitting in your hive alone playing a children’s card game with yourself. What is wrong with this picture?”

“Well, I mean, I normally play with Tinkerbull, but he’s, uh, out with Karkat’s and Sollux’s lusii, I think…” Tavros tried to explain.

“Save it, sweetheart, this isn’t one of your roleplaying games. I’m not buying any hoofbeast shit excuses from the marketplace today, thank you. No, you know what you need?”

“Is that a, uh, rhetorical question?”

His ancestor ignored him and continued as if he hadn’t heard a word. “You need a man,” he advised, placing an unnecessary emphasis on the final syllable.

Tavros’s face burned bright copper. “Uhh, well, I would, uhm, like one, I guess, but, I’m having a really, really hard time filling, uh, any of my quadrants, really…” he mumbled, looking down at his lap.

Rufio gasped. “No way!”

“Yeah, way,” Tavros confessed. “I can’t even fill my pale quadrant, and that’s supposed to be, uh, the easiest one to fill,” he continued, sounding utterly dejected. “I tried, uhh, asking Kanaya if she wanted to be my moirail, since, uh, she’s probably the nicest and least intimidating troll, to me at least, and, uh, she’s the one who told me I should talk to you, Rufio… but, uhm, she said no. I, I think that she’s still mad at me, because of when Vriska kissed me, even though, uh, that definitely wasn’t my fault, at all.”

If he closed his eyes, Tavros could almost feel Rufio settling down on the floor beside him.

“Jealousy,” Rufio said wisely. “She’ll come around. But hey, in the meantime… what about that blind chick?”

“Oh, you mean, Terezi?” Tavros considered the suggestion thoughtfully. “Well, I, uh, never really thought about her that way before. But, you know…” He offered up a shy smile. “She believes in you too, Rufio! She told me to, uh, never let anybody tell me that you aren’t real. She, and Nepeta, too, are the only ones who actually, uh, listen to me when I talk about you.”

“See? That’s a promising start to a moirallegiance right there!” Tavros looked a little happier at that, cheered up by the thought that maybe his prospects weren’t as bleak as they seemed.

“Now, what about something a little more… red? You got a flushcrush or anything?” Rufio asked with the air of someone manicuring his claws.

Tavros let out a shy giggle and fiddled with the cards in his lap. “Well, I, uh, probably most definitely have, uh, flushed feelings for someone…”

“Oh? Who’s the lucky troll?”

“Eh, heh heh,” Tavros laughed nervously, his cheeks tinged with a faint brown hue. “Uhh, he’s not exactly a troll…”

“Sounds kinky.”

“You know that really, really cool kid? Uh, Dave? The human? I, uhh, I kind of definitely like him. And, sometimes I think he might think the same things, about me, but he’s probably just being, uh, ironic, because he likes to submit innuendo, so, uh, I never really know what he thinks of me, but I kind of get the feeling that he, uhm, isn’t impressed…”

The Summoner let out a scandalized noise. “The human kid? You’ve only known him for less than half a sweep, and you already want to fill pails with him? You big slut, good for you!” he cheered.

Tavros’s blush promptly flared up again. “Whoa, whoa, uh, let’s not go quite that far, just yet,” he sputtered. “I’d— I’d be happy if he just noticed me, and thought of me as something more than, uh, the worst troll ever,” he finished quietly, staring at his hands in the hopes that he could find an answer to his troubles there.

“Oh, please, you’re not the worst troll ever.” Rufio dismissed the statement with an airy wave of a hand. “You think you’re not a very good troll? Fine. But calling yourself the worst troll ever? Excessive!”

“Not, uh, according to Vriska.”

“Oh! Speaking of Vriska,” the Summoner said conversationally, “she is so waxing black for you. You don’t even have to work very hard to fill that quadrant because come on, she totally hates you, and I’m not just talking about platonic hate here.”

“Uh. Well.” Suddenly uncomfortable, Tavros busied himself with straightening out his deck of fiduspawn cards. “I think I’m just scared of her, more than anything else,” he admitted. “And, uh, sometimes she does make me mad, but I don’t think I really hate her. At least, uh, not like that.” He hesitated, then plowed on regardless. If he was airing out his metaphorical dirty laundry, he might as well bare all. “I think, uh, I think that there’s something wrong with me. I’ve never had a black crush on anyone before, and even though Vriska’s trying really, really hard to make me hate her, and I know I should after, uh, everything she did to me… I can’t. I can’t hate anyone, Rufio.” His face crumpled as he realized the implications of this statement. He already knew that he was a freak because he couldn’t bear the thought of killing anyone, but to be incapable of hating anyone? It was unthinkable, and if the Imperial Drone ever came knocking with a spades pail in hand, he would be culled in a heartbeat. “Oh god, I really am a failure as a troll,” he wailed.

“You have been a pretty bad troll,” Rufio agreed.

Tavros blinked back coppery tears, too astonished to cry. “W-what?” he managed.

“Oh yeah, I said it.” If Tavros didn’t know better, he could have sworn he heard a snapping motion accompanying his imaginary friend’s words. “You may be a terrible troll, Tavros, but that doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.”

“What, uh, what do you mean?”

“What I mean is that, yeah, maybe you have issues with maiming someone or hating them, but you’re totally overlooking all of the positives. You have a good heart, and that has to count for something.”

“But, the fact that I can’t do any of that, that violent stuff, means that I’m, uh, a failure to all of troll society! Everyone has every right to, uh, treat me the way they do,” Tavros argued, doom and gloom settling down around him.

“So what, we let them walk all over you? No! Grow a spine and stop with the self-hating stint. I mean, enough already!” the Summoner cried. “If you don’t respect yourself, how can you expect anyone else to respect you?”

“The last time I tried to have a lot of self-respect and, uhh, be all confident, it backfired,” Tavros mumbled.

“Well, duh,” Rufio said, and Tavros could hear him rolling his eyes. “That’s because you weren’t being true to yourself. Fake confidence is no good, everyone can see right through that. No, you need to learn to accept yourself for who you are, because nothing’s going to change that,” he added, his voice simultaneously managing to be both consoling and assertive as he did his best to get his point across without making Tavros feel any worse than he already did. “You can’t pretend to be confident when you’re talking to others if you’re not confident in yourself and your abilities.”

Tavros shook his head. “But it’s hard,” he choked out. “Being confident when you’ve been a step away from being culled your entire life. It’s hard, and nobody understands. I wish I was brave like you, Rufio, but I’m not.”

“Tavros,” the Summoner said gently. “Do you believe in me?”

Tavros didn’t trust his voice not to break, so he settled for nodding fervently. Then, uncertain as to whether or not Rufio could tell that he was nodding, he whispered, “Yes, I believe in you, more than anything, even more than fairies or Pupa Pan.” And considering the fact that he still left his window open every night just in case Pupa decided to stop by, that was saying a lot.

“Then I believe in you just as much. And I believe that you can be just as strong and as brave as any other troll.”

Tavros sniffled. “Do you mean it?” he asked hesitatingly, but his spirits were already starting to climb out of the deep well they had fallen into. Affirmation from the troll he had looked up to ever since he was a young wiggler, the friend he had created as a defense mechanism after being mercilessly picked on for sweeps… it was cleansing, and it made him feel inexplicably better.

“Of course I mean it!” his ancestor reassured him.

Tavros allowed himself to grin as the weight that had settled down on him was lifted off his shoulders. He still had his self-doubts, but he was feeling better. He was more confident and, most importantly, he began to believe in himself.

“Now pick yourself up, take a deep breath, and go talk to that human boy,” the Summoner counseled him. He paused and added in a sly voice, “Who knows, maybe you’ll break out the pails before you know it—”

“R-Rufio!” Tavros blushed again.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m a stupid bitch!”

Tavros giggled with Rufio and wheeled himself over to his husktop with a newfound vigor. As he opened up a new message to turntechGodhead, he was convinced, for the first time in his life, that maybe everything was going to work out just fine.


End file.
